There's a Monster Under My Bed
by imanerd225
Summary: When fifteen-year-old Sam claims that there's a monster under his bed, Dean thinks it's a joke. Until he realizes that Sam is telling the truth, and they're trapped in a crappy motel room with it.


"Ah!"

Dean jolted awake at the sound of the yell. "What?" he asked groggily, his head whipping back and forth to locate the danger. "What's going on?" He looked over and saw Sam sitting bolt straight against the backboard of his bed with his leg pulled up close to his body and a look of terror on his face. "Sammy? What's going on?"

Sam kept his unblinking gaze locked on the ratty, stained, motel room carpet. "There's a monster under my bed," he said seriously.  
Dean tried to hold it in, but he couldn't help himself. He busted out laughing. "Good one, Sammy. Real funny. Now, if you don't mind, I was sleeping."

"No, Dean," Sam said, finally tearing his gaze away from the floor. "I'm not joking. I _saw_ it."

Dean shot his brother an annoyed look. "Come on, Sam. Drop the act. It's getting old."

"I'm _serious_ , Dean! There's a monster under my bed!"

Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother. He glanced down at the ground and then up at Sam. "You're serious," he said, still skeptical.

"Yes."

"Isn't fifteen a little old for that "monster under the bed" crap? I mean, sure we know that there are monsters. But nine times out of ten, they don't live under the bed. You're probably just on edge because Dad's out."

"I heard rustling, and then I felt something bump my mattress from underneath," Sam recounted. "And when I went to look, it tried to pull me under the bed."

Dean rolled his eyes. This was just like the time when Sam was eleven and convinced that there was a monster in his closet. He wouldn't go in there for days, even after Dad had checked it out and said it was clear. "Look," Dean said, trying to sound understanding. "Let me check and then —"

"No!" Sam exclaimed just as Dean started to swing his legs over the bed. "Don't move! It'll pull you under."

But Dean was already standing up and walking towards Sam. "Nothing's gonna — AAH!" Dean vaulted onto Sam's bed just in time to avoid the large, mud black, tentacle that had tried to grab him.

"See?" Sam said.

"What the hell _was_ that?"

"The monster —"

" — under your bed. Yeah, I got that much."

"What do we do?" Sam asked Dean. "Should we call Dad?"

"Hm… maybe. But he's probably tied up in the job he's working. Why don't we see if we can't figure out what'll cap this thing ourselves first?"

"Um, if you haven't noticed, we're kind of stranded on my bed. What are we gonna use to kill it?"

"My gun's under my pillow. I made it over here in one piece; I could probably make it back."

"No."

"What?"

"It's too risky." Knowing his brother would insist, Sam looked around for anything else they could try. His eyes landed on the container of salt sitting on the nightstand. "Maybe salt will hurt it."

" _Pfft_. Doubt it."

"It's worth a shot. Let's at least try, okay?"

"Fine. How do we draw the thing out without getting one of our asses dragged under?"

"Hm…" Sam picked up a pillow and lowered it over the edge of the bed slowly, making sure to stay as close to the middle of the bed as he could. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, suddenly there was a flash of black flesh as the tentacle shot out from under the bed. Sam's hand automatically grabbed Dean's shirt as the pillow was yanked out of sight.

"Alrighty then," Dean said. "Toss me the other one. This time, you be ready with the salt." Dam nodded.

This time, when the tentacle reached out for the second pillow, Sam dumped salt on it. Immediately, the black flesh began to sizzle. There was a ear-piercing _Shriieeeak!_ and the tentacle slithered back under the bed. Dean punched Sam on the arm.. "Good call, Sammy."

Dean took the salt from Sam and warily leaned over the bed, pouring the salt in a circle around the bed. "That bastard won't be coming out now." He started to climb out of the bed.

"Wait." Sam seized his arm. "It's still under there. We didn't kill it."

"Sam, you saw what the salt did to it."

"Still," he insisted.

"It'll be fine, Sam. Just watch." Pulling his arm away from his brother, Dean stepped off the bed. After standing there for a moment, he said, "See? We trapped it. It's not coming out any more." Sam relaxed a little bit, but his forehead remained creased. Dean moved towards his bed. "And when Dad comes back, he'll take care of —"

"NO!" Sam caught a glimpse of black and sizzling white steam just before the monster struck again and his brother was gone. "DEAN!"


End file.
